


Of Second Chances and Unfamiliar Paths

by Mozaik



Series: The Chrono Board [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Brother Feels, Bullying, But Regulus is very biased, Dysfunctional Family, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Families of Choice, Flashbacks, Gen, He's still Slytherin inside, Marauders Friendship (Harry Potter), Nightmares, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Panic Attacks, Ravenclaw Regulus Black, Redemption, Regulus Black Deserves Better, Regulus Black Lives, Regulus Black-centric, Reset the Timeline, Slurs, Swearing, Time Travel Fix-It, Well... yes but actually no, What-If, he's trying, not really - Freeform, the HP typical ones
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-30
Updated: 2020-12-24
Packaged: 2021-03-08 02:40:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,421
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26728354
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mozaik/pseuds/Mozaik
Summary: Instead of finding himself in the afterlife after his death, Regulus wakes up in his old bed as a eleven years old and with a train to catch the next day to go to Hogwarts.Having traveled back in time with only a brief mysterious message as a guide, Regulus will have to fight in a world he already knows to change its events and, at the same time, change himself.
Relationships: Regulus Black & Original Character(s), Regulus Black & Sirius Black, Sirius Black & James Potter
Series: The Chrono Board [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1945306
Comments: 39
Kudos: 272





	1. Tabula Rasa

**Author's Note:**

> Hello and welcome to this story, which I originally wrote in Italian with the name "The Struggles and Rebirth of Regulus Arcturus Black". Chapter updates should be weekly unless I say otherwise.  
> As English it's not my first language, some mistakes may show up in the translation: please feel free to point them out so I may be able to fix them.  
> Also, as I speak a very "mainstream" English, as in the one I learned not only in school but on the web, characters from 1972 Britain may find themselves to speak in a way they should not (for example, with American or more modern words). Exactly as with the errors, please show me how to correct phrases that may feel "off".  
> Nothing left to say, enjoy the story and if you want to, please leave a review!  
> 

The putrid water that had been filling his lungs until a moment before suddently disappeared.

Regulus found himself gasping for the air that had been denied him up until that istant. His whole body hurt, his chest _burned_ , every single breath was making his whole being explode with _pain_. Fire, fire everywhere, as if he had literally swallowed lava instead of water. And then, within a few seconds, even that suffering disappeared.

**_Fix it._ **

He breathed deeply, again, this time without feeling any discomfort except a slight numbness. Around him there was only darkness: Regulus tried to open his eyes, but with a shiver of fear he realized that they were _already_ open. Was he still underwater? Was that why he could not see? No, this was impossibile...

**_Mend it_ ** _._

Suddenly the pain returned, stronger, but different. It was no longer his lungs that burst, but his head instead: he tried to grab it with his hands, to hold it, but he realized that he could not move his arms.

He opened his mouth to scream, but no sound came out of it: and as the burning increased, the voice in his head became stronger and more insistent.

**_Do it. For what has been._ **

His arms were still immobilized, along with the rest of his body: he could not help but gasp, unable to scream, to move, to do anything but feel that absurd sensation of pain...

**_For what_ ** **will _be._**

The scream that came out of his mouth as he sat up was not that of an adult, but of a child. Regulus realized he was trembling: he looked at his hands automatically and found them small, delicate, without scars or any other imperfection: there was no longer the mark of when he had, by mistake, sawed off half his palm using a letter opener, nor the one from when he closed his fingers in the door of his father's personal studio. In panic, he looked around and realized he was in his own room, away from the cave, away from the Inferi and from the Locket. A simple bedroom, with no posters or newspaper clippings attached to the walls like he remembered.

And when his gaze fell on a mirror and in the reflection, he saw a little boy who could not have been more than eleven, Regulus screamed again.

It took him at least an hour before he could do something other than hide under the covers in an attempt to make that strange new reality disappear: not that a lake full of Inferi dragging him into the water was better than finding himself in his body when he was eleven, sure, but at least it was something _logical_ that he could explain.

The last memory he had was one of drowning, or rather being _about_ to drown... was he really dead? There should have been the opportunity to be able to remain as a ghost before going to the other side, but maybe Regulus didn't deserve it due to his actions. Maybe this was what was on the other side? Your old life to be relived again and again?

Well, at least his had been short. It wouldn't take long to reach its ending again.

Gropingly he found his way up, realizing that everything seemed extremely taller than him. Or bigger. Even as a teenager Regulus had never been a colossus, but certainly not… like _this_. It was all so strange, and different. He wasn't even sure it was real.

A quick glance at the wall clock made him aware of the fact that he had woken up incredibly early and that breakfast would only be served in an hour: he had to be quick. He had no intention of being found by his mother in the midst of a possible panic attack.

Sure, if his mother was really in this… _place_ with him. Maybe Hell was something to face alone.

He didn't meet anyone on his way to the bathroom, not even Kreacher, so maybe he was really on his own. Dressing was strangely faster than usual, perhaps because he hadn't had to shave what little hair he had had on his face: he ran a hand over his chin, thoughtfully, before deciding to go down to the kitchen to understand what was going on.

A short distance from the kitchen door he met Kreacher, with a tray in his hand: his father, after all, loved to eat in his study and he only joined the family for dinner or important festivities. He usually had breakfast alone before running away without even saying goodbye.

Seeing the house elf made Regulus heart sank: first of all, now he was sure that at least someone else was there with him... and at the same time he wondered if the elf hadn't managed to escape, if he had died there. In the lake.

But no, he had seen him Disapparate… perhaps the Dark Lord had discovered his involvement? After all, it didn't take some genius to connect the message in the fake locket to him, and therefore the Black family, to the fact that only that elf knew the location of the Horcrux.

"Kreacher!" Regulus exclaimed, then put a hand to his mouth. Was his voice really that high as a child?

The house elf looked up from the tray, glancing at him with a confused expression. "Young Master Regulus." He said in his usual croaking voice. “Are you okay? Young Master looks like he has seen a ghost. "

Perhaps he really had.The child turned his gaze to a mirror located in the corridor: he was extremely pale, with a rather haunted air and slightly disheveled hair, but he had been worse, much worse. "Kreacher, what day is today?"

"August 31, Young Master Regulus."

Regulus swallowed. "Y-year?"

Kreacher throw him a perplexed and suspicious look, but hastened to reply. "1972, Young Master Regulus."

August 31, 1972. He had only been eleven for four months, and the next day he was going to Hogwarts for the first time. The information took a while to be assimilated. "T-thanks, Kreacher."

The house elf bowed, his expression still confused, before trotting away. Once alone, Regulus had to lean against the wall to avoid collapsing to the ground.

_I am eleven years old. I'm going to Hogwarts tomorrow. I'm with Kreacher, but he doesn't remember anything._

It was all was becoming more and more confused.

Breathing deeply, he opened the kitchen door.

"I was about to go up to wake you, Regulus." His mother said as soon as she saw him, bringing a cup of what looked like coffee to her mouth. “ _What_ did you do to your hair? You look like you've come out of a hurricane! Do you want me to cut them all? "

His mother's hair policy was simple: they wore long only when worn neat. But, honestly, Regulus didn't care at all about that, he might as well have turned bald as far as he was concerned: he was too busy staring at his mother with wide eyes.

Young, much younger than when he had seen her for the last time, and healthy: his mother was definitely different from what he remembered, old and angry with the whole world. Instead, she came directly from his childhood memories: black hair perfectly collected even at that time of the morning and skin that did not show any wrinkles. Her face had not yet been marked by the pain of losing her firstborn, and then of being widowed.

With a sudden feeling of dread in his chest, Regulus realized that when he had left, he had condemned her to lose the last member of her family to…

"Regulus? Are you listening to me?"

"N-no, Mother." He stammered. "I-I mean, no Mother, I don't want you to cut my hair."

As if he really _cared_!

"Then sit down and have breakfast, then you'll go taking care of that mess"

Regulus found himself nodding automatically, but when he was about to sit down another shock, perhaps the greatest of all, stopped him again.

 _Sirius_.

Sitting at the long table, much farther than his mother but close enough to draw food without having to get up, was Sirius. A young Sirius, twelve years old, with a rebellious air on his face but _here_ , in the house, with _them_.

The last time Regulus had seen Sirius in Grimmauld Place, the older boy was yelling at everything and everyone and filling a suitcase as quickly as possible. He had turned to Regulus and he had ceased for the first time in years the expression he reserved for him, the same as that addressed to all the rest of the Blacks, and desperately his brother had asked him to follow him.

When Regulus had, of course, refused, his brother had left him behind and ran away, and the next time they met, at Hogwarts, Sirius hadn't spoken to him, not even to provoke him with his fellow Slytherins: is seemed like Regulus had completely ceased to exist for him.

" _Regulus_!"

He realized he was on the floor, with warm arms clutching him to a chest, shaking him. The boy blinked several times, barely framing the worried faces of both his mother and his brother upon him. "Go get your father." He heard the sound of footsteps running away: his brother must have listened to his mother's order. Merlin, it was _strange_ just to think about it... "Regulus, can you hear me?"

He nodded, placing a hand on his mother's, to support himself and at the same time making sure once again that all of this was real. Or, well, as real as hell could be. "I'm fine." He lied. "I ... I had a drop in blood pressure, I think."

"Sit down and eat something, your father will be here right away." Regulus nodded again, and let his mother lead him to his chair. Here, he looked towards a basket of biscuits that his mother pushed close to him: hunger was the last thing he felt, but he forced himself to weakly grab one.

"So, Father is at home?"

"Yes, Regulus, he wants to be there for tomorrow." Ah, yeah. His father had asked every first of September free of work until 1975, when he stopped working at St Mungo's and stayed home to continue his potion studies alone.

Another sting in the heart: his father had been dead for at least three months.

"Walburga." And it was exactly his father's voice that distracted Regulus from his thoughts, but he didn't dare raise his gaze to meet his parent's: he didn't know how he would react at that point. "What happened?"

“I think it's just low sugar, Orion, but could you check it out? He suddenly collapsed."

"Very well." The boy felt someone bending down near him, and at that point he was forced to look up: he immediately met his father's eyes, open and alive, and let out a surprised moan.

"It's fine, Regulus, stay still for me."

A few strokes of the wand around his body and a keen observation of his face, it seems, was what it took his father to give his diagnosis. “This is not low sugar, this is stress. For tomorrow?"

"And what are you afraid of?" Sirius muttered, returning to his seat and dipping a cookie in his glass of milk. "Not being sorted into the _perfect_ Slytherin house?"

"Given the precedents, he should." His mother said, cold in her voice.

Oh, right, barely a year had passed since Sirius was sorted. When she received news of the Sorting, their mother went on a rampage: he himself was in the room with her and saw the woman screaming, throwing things around and having to be restrained by his father to stop her Apparating at Hogwarts... or rather, outside the borders of the school. She had sent an Howler on the second day, but from what Regulus knew Sirius had dipped it in his pumpkin juice.

It had taken their father's effort and many months to let her cool off, and from that moment Walburga Black had assumed an attitude of total ignorance of the situation: she had convinced herself that it was just a mistake of the Hat or something like that, and that her Sirius would soon passed the rebellious phase and would still reveal himself as the Black he was.

This did not prevent her, when someone brought up the subject, from sending cold comments to her eldest son, but she still had a maternal attitude towards him, perhaps a bit lacking because of her stiff personality but still _there_ , that would have been completely ruined in the following years. From Sirius, from his mother, from both… but Regulus tended to blame his brother above all, of course.

"It's... I mean..." He swallowed, nervous: what could be a rather convincing excuse for an eleven-year-old boy? "I'm afraid I won't make... friends."

"Nonsense." His father replied, sitting down to eat: apparently his breakfast in the study had been ruined, so he might as well stay with his family. Out of the corner of his eye, Regulus noticed Kreacher returning quickly, the tray previously brought to the studio in his arms. “Slytherin is full of people you already know. Marcel Avery's son, for example. Or, what was the name of Archibald’s nephew? Walden... "

“Macnair, Orion, Macnair. But I think he's a little bit too old for Regulus ... "

“Wow. The best that Hogwarts can offer." His brother exclaimed sarcastically, not taking his eyes off the food. Their parents ignored him openly.

"And there is always your cousin Narcissa, and Lucius." His mother finished. "If you really feel alone, you can go talk to them."

"You know I will be there too, right?" Sirius looked up from his food, pointing a fork in a decidedly rebellious way at his mother... his expression provocative, just like every time he got into trouble. "And James!"

James Potter was exactly the last person in the world Regulus wanted to spend time with, especially since he had been the main culprit in the destruction of his family, having corrupted Sirius from an early age and having stolen him as his brother, in the true sense of the word. But Regulus could not certainly say _that_.

"Potter?" His mother seemed irritated. "Well ..."

Technically Potter was a Pureblood, and from a rather prominent family. Not that this made him more suitable to be a friend of Sirius according to Walburga, but at least his blood status was ‘right’.

She wouldn't oppose the friendship... for now. Her patience lasted until Sirius' third year, if Regulus recalled correctly.

"I don't like James Potter." Regulus said, hurrying to find a reason other than _'he's a fucking usurper'_. Especially because Regulus Black at the age of eleven and in front of his Mother wouldn't never swear. Perhaps not even at seventeen. “…He screams too much. He's loud. At least, at the station it was like that."

It had to be said that it was true: that boy's vocal cords seemed to be made of steel.

"After a while you get used to it." Sirius replied, handing him a cookie. Regulus wasn't used to being treated well, or just being noticed by him, so even such a gesture upset him, and he found himself looking at the cookie as if it were a three-headed monster. "And also because you won't be able to live at Hogwarts in peace if you don't get used to loud people."

"As you describe it, Sirius, that's doesn't seem to be a school no more, but a circus." Their mother said. "At least that's what the Gryffindor house appears to be."

The atmosphere was so nostalgic and familiar and _painful_ that Regulus jumped up. "I do not feel well." He said. "Can I go back to my room?"

"Did you eat anything?" No, and there was no way to hide it from his father, but fortunately the man seemed to understand. “Kreacher, bring him some tea at mid-morning. At lunch I expect you to eat, though. "

"Yes Father." Regulus tried to stay calm, but when he left the room he began to run as fast as possible to his room, ignoring the elf who was supposed to accompany him and who was instead trotting after.

Kreacher and his mother were there. His father was alive. His brother was still his brother. Was he really dead? If so, he did not know whether he was in Hell or in Heaven. Maybe it was some kind of Purgatory.

He didn't know anything, he didn't understand, he didn't ...

"Is Young Master Regulus all right?"

He had stopped on the threshold of the room.

Three words were imprinted on the walls and on the floor: _Mend it_. _Fix it_. Written in what looked like blood, stamped all over his room. Regulus backed away, frightened, and once again, as a few hours before, he gazed at his mirror where another writing had appeared in the same color.

**_Change the future._ **

"Young Regulus?"

"D-Do you see them??"

"What is that Kreacher should see?"

At the exact moment in which Regulus had looked away from the writing and had tried to show it to Kreacher, it seemed to have disappeared along with all the others.

"Nothing, Kreacher. Nothing ..."

__  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Chrono Board AU is what I call my "life work", not because of his quality (which I cannot judge, since it's my own work) but simply because I have planned something... big. Like. Really big. Lots of chapters and I still don't know how I'll pull it out but I just know that this story will end before I die or _else._  
>  Conceived in 2015 and first posted in an Italian archive in 2016, the story still hasn't got very far due to a long series of problems that should be completly fixed now. As I decided to restart its release in Italian, the idea of translating it to English just hit me.  
> The story was inspired from various things and still continues to, but I need to name the principal ones:  
> 1) The videogame "Undertale" by Toby Fox  
> 2) Silver_Pup's A Shot in the Dark fanfiction  
> 3) The videogame "Umineko no naku koro ni" by Ryukishi07.  
> While the inspiration was merely in the concept of "Resetting" in the first two cases and in... something else I won't spoiler for Umineko, I still want to give due credits.  
> The original Italian chapter was a lot longer, as in nearly 9000 words, but I've decided to divide it better to make the story smoother in the long run.  
> Thank again for reading and see you all in the next chapter!


	2. Pianificazione

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Realizing the situation he is in, Regulus plans his future actions and relives the experience of going to Hogwarts his first year... for the second time.
> 
> **TW:** The usual racism against Muggleborns from Regulus, who is still biased and has a long road ahead in order to change his mind.  
> Consider the Trigger Warning active until said otherwise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did I say "weekly" chapters? Syke, now they're every three days. I have too much Italian chapters to divide, after all.  
> Thank you so much for all the support, I am not used to it!  
> As I've already said, English it's not my first language, so I'm sorry for any mistakes: if you catch them, please make me know so I can correct them"

Regulus spent the afternoon formulating an action plan.

First of all, if what he understood was correct, he was not in a purgatory, but in the _past_. ‘How’ he got there was a mystery, and the ‘why’… _well_. If he was naïve enough to listen to what a writing on a mirror said, something that could be extremely dangerous, then he had to change the future. Fix it. How, Regulus did not know, after all his life had been very short from the age of eleven onwards. He had gone to Hogwarts, had been sorted into Slytherin, and then he had joined the Death Eaters. He had tried to sabotage the Dark Lord by stealing one of his Horcruxes. Then… he had died, or gone back in time before he could be even killed: he wasn't sure about that.

But if he had to fix something… he had to figure out _what_ first.

It had to have something to do with the Dark Lord, surely. If depriving him of his life source wasn't enough, perhaps it meant he needed to control Kreacher and make sure he fully destroyed the Locket. Or maybe that wasn't the only Horcrux: Regulus had spent enough time among the Death Eaters to realize that Lord Voldemort was exactly the kind of person who could tear his soul apart over and over again. But he had no certainties, and no clues.

Of course, he had gone back in time _a lot_ , perhaps enough to be able to spend those years investigating...

Would his family let him do that? In their eyes he was, after all, an eleven years old child. And he would be stuck at Hogwarts for nine months at year, there was a limit to what he could study in the Library, even by trespassing in the Restricted Section. Surely Dumbledore would have not left any “Dark” books where anyone could reach them, and Horcruxes were even _worse_ than normal dark magic. At this point in time, he couldn’t even use Kreacher to obtain certain things or to send him in missions for his sake: he was, after all, a “Young Master” and for how much Kreacher cared about him, he was still loyal to Orion and Walburga Black first and to him second.

At one point he had leaned out of the door of Sirius's room. He despised the idea of asking his _dear_ brother a question so important, but he needed another brain – and one that thought differently from how Regulus usually did.

"Sirius." He started. "May I ask you to answer a question? A hypothetical one, of course..."

"’What if you were sorted into Gryffindor?’" His brother provoked him, continuing to pack his trunk.

"A little more ... unrealistic hypothesis." Sirius wasn't smart enough, at least not _yet_ , to believe Regulus was being serious. Probably. He hoped. "If you go back in time in order to change something in the future, but you don't know exactly what it is... what could it be? What should you do?"

"And where does this hypothesis come from?"

"A-A dream. It doesn't matter, just answer!"

"Mhhh ..." Sirius had started to think, letting himself sit on the bed. Regulus just had to thank that at this age he took it as a game and didn't suspect anything. “Something that I would have provoked? Like… like if I accidentally destroyed Ireland! "

"Stay serious, I _beg_ you, and just assume that your life had been very short and devoided of a true meaning."

“Well… then maybe I don't have to change something _I_ have caused. Maybe I have to provoke something or… just live longer? Like a second chance. "

_A second chance?_

He had thanked him and returned back to his room, thinking deeply. A second chance wasn’t even an option to be discarded, that was certain, but why would have _Regulus_ deserved a second chance? Even in his last act he had been selfish: he had left the job of destroying the Locket to Kreacher and had thrown himself to the Inferi because he was too cowardly to be able to face Voldemort himself.

He had preferred death to the mere hypothesis of being discovered by the Dark Lord while betraying him. No, if there was one person who didn't deserve a second chance, it was Regulus.

That didn't mean he couldn't take advantage of it.

While waiting to find out what his purpose was in the past, he could try to change something. His had been a dull life, crowned by the mistake of joining the forces of the Dark Lord: he could change that.

But _how_?

First of all, he had to get into the part. He was an eleven-year-old boy, not a seventeen-year-old boy just out of Hogwarts, with a full education and a lot of experience of the world: he would have to avoid too advanced terms, or magic that he couldn't have learned yet. He was Regulus Black, eleven, just arrived at Hogwarts, nothing more and nothing less.

Second, no one needed to know what was happening. Apart from the fact that no one would believe him, even if he managed to give some proof, perhaps foreseeing some future event, which could also just let people see him as a Seer, then what would happen next? Nothing good, that was the answer. The forces of good were not the only one who could take advantage of a power as great as that of _fully_ knowing the future. He wouldn't say anything to anyone, _especially_ his family.

Moreover, he did not trust Dumbledore. Perhaps it was a simple impression derived from years of suggestions from his family or from the closeness to Lord Voldemort, but Regulus knew that the man, in his time, had done nothing concrete to try to destroy the Dark Lord, even if with an Horcrux in the game he couldn’t have succeeded. To hell with the Order of the Roasted Chicken, Dumbledore had never even _tried_. And he could not entrust such a secret to _that_ kind of person.

Third, he had to understand _what_ to change. He had made a very quick list, notes on a sheet of paper which he then destroyed for fear that someone would find it.

_Death Eaters. Horcrux(es?). Pettigrew. Sirius? Hogwarts_

Of course, his first objective was the fall of the Dark Lord, just like it had been when he had decided to go after the Locket – and while he knew he couldn’t tell Dumbledore or anyone else about his knowing of the future, he could still work with it. He would know about certain people being killed and when. He would know about the location and time of the raids, and the Dark Lord’s general plans. Of course, he would have to wait years for most of them, but he would still be able to predict them and as soon as he was old enough to be able to investigate freely, he would try to understand if the Dark Lord had made more Horcruxes, if yes where to find them, and if not how to obtain the Locket in case Voldemort decided to change its location, since Regulus would not volunteer Kreacher to help this time.

He would also know who would become Death Eaters in order to avoid them.

And about that…

In his past... or future, Regulus had spent the last weeks before his death in panic and paranoia: he had stopped eating and sleeping, all in order to find that object that would ensure, according to him, Voldemort's defeat, at least in part. It had completely failed him in his actions to warn Sirius of the betrayal of Peter Pettigrew, who had recently joined the Death Eaters. But Sirius probably wouldn't even believe him: maybe a letter, if he had read it, could have instilled some doubts but... he was gone now, in a past and unable to contact him, if that future still existed of course. He hoped his carelessness had not cost lives… or that at least that future would really be rewritten.

At this point, the best thing to do was to end his brother's friendship from the beginning: after all, Regulus fully believed that while the friendship between Sirius and Pettigrew had been a sincere one, until the betrayal of course, it probably had begun as something very different: a young child who saw two students stronger and bolder than him and started following them in order to not get bullied and, oh, Sirius _loved_ to have the floor kissed as he walked, and Potter too probably. They surely had gotten attached later.

He still didn't know how to stop it, but he had to do it, one way or another.

Sirius himself... was the biggest “unknown”. Regulus could try to stop him from leaving home, but he doubted that he would be able to: how so, when it was impossible to cancel his so _Gryffindor_ being? He didn't even know if he _wanted_ to, if he wanted to keep the relationship: he had been surprised that morning, even shocked, but the more he thought about it, the more he remembered how Sirius had abandoned him, how he had abandoned all of them. How he began to treat him differently once he sorted into Slytherin just because he began to agree, rightly, with his parents, and how he forgot about his existence after his escape. How he replaced him.

No, Sirius could remain perfectly the same as far as he was concerned. He would treat him decently, because _this_ Sirius had not yet decided to throw their relationship in the trash bin, and he would try to save him from Pettigrew’s betrayal and many other dangers of the war, but only because it was the right thing to do, and only because of that.

Regulus had something more important to think about, something to worry him way more: the biggest change he needed for his plan to work had to happen inside the walls of Hogwarts. Regulus remembered the years he spent there very well, especially once Sirius was gone from home. His parents had loaded him with enormous responsibilities, which had made him prouder and bolder but at the same time had ruined him; his circle of "friends", which already amounted to none because of his skittish and shy character when he was younger and of his family’s expectation with the company he kept, had become composed solely and exclusively of future Death Eaters, and eventually he found himself convinced of the Dark Lord's ideals without realizing one thing: thinking that Muggles and Muggleborn are inferior is different than deciding to kill them.

Regulus’ ideals had not changed. He still believed that what the Black Family (and many other Pureblood ones) thought was correct, that Muggles were the bane of the Earth and Muggleborn not equal to “normal” witches and wizards. But there was a difference between thinking so and raiding houses, persecuting people, and…

He didn’t want to think about what he saw.

No, he had to change everything. Now he knew where the truth was and the mistakes not to make, but he didn't want to go against the future Death Eaters _openly_ , nor did he want to feel constrained by his family. He already had the role of future Heir to think about and _that_ came with its load of responsibilities and worries too.

But he would already have Bellatrix and many others trying to recruit him, giving him so much unwanted pressure: nothing that would lead him in the Dark Lord’s arm again, of course, but still something _heavy_. No, he had to change his life at Hogwarts. The people he dated. The things he did.

And, above all, despite the fact that the very thought hurt him, despite the fact that he knew he fully belonged to Slytherin ... he needed a safe place. Somewhere to be for the majority of the year without being cornered by Avery, or Rosier, or all the other “future Death Eaters” that would want to hear his opinions. He needed to be able to ran away to his dorm if something went bad, if he refused to harass a Muggleborn, if in any way people would discover that he would like to see Lord Voldemort burn in hell and had no intention to support him.

He needed to be sorted in another House.

That night, he didn’t sleep. And not only for the nightmares of pale, dead hands grabbing his ankles and dragging him down, in the dark cold water.

**────────** ⌛ **────────**

At King Cross Regulus was wringing his hands, nervous. Sirius had disappeared into the crowd to go find his friends, and his parents were talking to some family acquaintances whose children were, luckily for him, already on the train. Earlier his mother had taken him aside and told him, an order disguised as a suggestion, to avoid unnecessary contact with Sirius' friends and other _scum_ , especially the Mudbloods.

Last time, Regulus had listened to her... this time, he wasn't so sure.

His view of Muggles had not changed in a few months, but Lord Voldemort's way was certainly wrong and, perhaps, in order to understand how to go forward he simply had to broaden his horizons. That didn't mean he had to become a Mudblood's best friend, but he would not avoid them in class for example, especially if he really ended up in another House and would be forced to share a dormitory with them.

_Slytherin_! Just the thought that he would not go to sleep in the basement of the Castle that evening made him _sick_. He didn't even know if the Hat would accept his request: he _knew_ he was a Slytherin, and he _liked_ being a Slytherin. But he didn't want to take unnecessary risks and to change the future, he had to change everything that could affect him.

Slytherin, in those years, was the home of the Dark Lord's followers, and with the surname he bore and his cousin Bellatrix already among the Death Eaters, he doubted that they would leave him alone and not press him to join the Army too.

No, he would rather suffer for seven years in another dorm.

When the train finally departed, Regulus found himself with a trunk in his hands, alone and with a lot of familiar faces around. He knew many of the people who entered the compartments, the ones who tried to pass him in the corridor, and if not in person he at least knew their face, and they all seemed so small, so young...

One look was enough.

_Emma Vanity. Slytherin, Pureblood. She was my Quidditch Captain. She always told me I was the best player on the team even when it wasn't true just to motivate me._

_Pandora Grayfall. Ravenclaw, Halfblood. She was infatuated with Sirius and when he refused her confession, she put a Dungbomb under his desk in Potions._

_Frank Longbottom. Gryffindor, Pureblood. This was his last year at Hogwarts... he and his future wife Alice would become Aurors, and members of the Order of the Phoenix._

_Henry Bones, Elizabeth Clark, twins Julia and Norman Abbott, Lucinda Talkalot, Mary Macdonald, Roderich Stebbins…_

Oh, Sirius and Potter. They were coming towards him.

“Regulus! What are you doing here alone?” Both of the boys had no trunks: they were probably already settled somewhere in the train. Potter waved his hand at him, but Regulus ignored him. "Come on, we found a compartment with ..."

"Good Morning, Black."

Regulus had forgotten how the voice sounded like so young, but he still knew the person who had pronounced his last name: Evan Rosier. Turning to look at him, he realized how big he had always been: even when Rosier had been an adult, he had been at least ten centimeters taller than him, but he didn't remember him being so tall even as a child. Beside Evan were other Slytherins: Albert Avery and three other boys who he could not recognize, perhaps because they were still too young and very different from how he had known them. One of them had no colors on the uniform he had just worn, but Regulus was sure that to be there with them he had to be at least a Pureblood.

"We found two compartments next to those of the Prefects and Headboys, so Malfoy can make a few trips to visit us between a hassle and another." Rosier said. "Narcissa is already there asking for you."

"Rosier, you are very rude. Didn't you notice that we were already talking to Regulus?" Potter took a step forward, and suddenly Regulus remembered that moment: the Slytherins had a habit of going to welcome all the children of families who were Pureblood, Noble and Slytherin for generations, just like the Black Family. Just like him. In that moment he recognized, in fact, the first year William Wilkes. Even if he had shared Slytherin’s dorm with him for seven years, they had never been friend, and he didn’t remember him looking so young. No, he remembered his other dorm mates, Bulstrod, Bennet, and the girls, Colfer and Baker, but he had removed from his mind the only one of his year who would have followed him to become a Death Eater. Weird.

Anyway, that day of the first timeline, Sirius and Potter had started arguing with Rosier and the others, and Regulus had eventually left with his future housemates.

Now, he knew that was not the right path to follow.

"With his size, he probably tends to ignore everyone around him, James." Sirius said _innocently_. Yeah, right. "Or maybe he’s just stupid."

Before an argument could arise, Regulus hastened to get himself out of trouble. "I was going to find a compartment by myself." He exclaimed, aloud, to be heard by all. “I have to have my first-year experiences, meet new people, get scared of the sorting, and so on and on. Goodbye!"

And so, before any of them could say anything, Regulus grabbed his trunk and ran past Potter and Sirius, even risking running over a seventh-year Hufflepuff he didn't recognize. He doubted that a simple day alone with Rosier and his friends would change anything, but he knew that if he heard any of them speak of the Dark Lord as a god he would start punching them in the Muggle way.

Nor did he want to end up in the same compartment as Potter and Sirius. Ugh, _no_.

He pushed the trunk for nearly half of the train, quickly scanning the compartments. _This is busy. Here there are other Slytherins. Here there are all Gryffindors, no thanks, but no. Here, there are too many people I know._

The emptiest compartment he could find consisted of blonde a boy looking out the window, and a small girl reading a book, both first years.

_Littleton, Hufflepuff. Muggleborn_. He didn't remember talking to him, ever, well he didn't even remember his name, only his presence at the lessons Regulus attended with the Hufflepuffs. At one point he had become so tall that Regulus, who had always been a little short, had avoided even crossing him in the hallways so as not to feel uncomfortable.

_Morrigan, Ravenclaw._ He didn't know her Blood Status, so she was most likely an anonymous Muggleborn. He had never spoken to her outside of classes too, but he had often seen her in the library.

They would do.

He knocked in the compartment for politeness, and when Littleton looked at him briefly and beckoned him in, Regulus sighed, and pushed the trunk inside.

He remembered that hoisting the trunk over the seats the first year had nearly exhausted him, but now it only took a small flick of his wand to make it levitate up there. He realized that it had been advanced magic only when Littleton stared at him briefly, surprised, and Morrigan too looked up from his book as if to study him.

Oops.

Regulus had just settled into the other available window seat when the door swung open, letting in a girl with long red hair.

"Is it busy?" She did not even wait for an answer: she immediately rushed inside, trunk in tow, and closed the door behind her before she sprawled on the seat next to Littleton, without even putting the trunk on top but leaving it in the middle of the compartment. “Wow! I thought I would not find any free places." A nervous chuckle. “All the others students are too old or already in a group! I though, I don't know, that I would have to cross the whole train"

The girl laughed again, adjusting for a moment the wavy hair that had gone in front of her face. "I'm Eloise, Eloise..."

_Shepard_. Regulus concluded in mind, ignoring the girl's words, suddenly terrified. _Gryffindor. Pureblood. His father helped the Order of the Phoenix. The Dark Lord sent us to their home… there were no survivors._

Merlin, _no_. He knew he would have to go through something like this, but he had hoped to put it off at least for a while. Regulus hadn't killed that girl directly, he had killed no one that night, but he had _watched_ and that was enough.

He had a sudden urge to throw up.

Meanwhile, Shepard had held out her hand to Morrigan, intending to shake it. The young girl looked up slightly from the book she was reading, peering at the other from under her brown bangs with inquisitive eyes, and then she lowered her head, ignoring everyone again.

"Melody Morrigan." She merely said in a flat voice. "Not interested in making friends."

“But if we don't make friends with each other, then we will be very lonely at Hogwarts! Dad told me to find someone to befriend right away, I think because he worries that I will be alone. I was supposed to go to Beauxbatons, you know, but we moved to England again two years ago so that me and my brother would go to Hogwarts… and you to aaare?"

Regulus was too busy trying to calm himself down to answer, but Littleton was not, and he unsurely brought his hand up to shake the girl's. "Damian Littleton." He said. "What is Beauxbatons?"

"The... French school of magic." Regulus answered almost automatically, trying to recover. "Well, the French go there..."

“Not that I'm French. I was born in London, my family has been British for generation, but it’s just that I lived in France, just that! My father worked there, you see. Maybe I still have a little accent... Do I? " For a moment, every single emotion that Regulus was feeling was buried by annoyance. For Merlin’s sake, did this girl never shut up? And he had complained about Potter! Then, of course, guilty came back- even worse than before. What right did he have to be annoyed after what he had seen, what he had _done_?

For a moment, he nearly missed that the girl had asked for his name.

"Regulus Black." He answered quickly, leaning his head against the window. This whole situation would be extremely difficult, even more so than he had thought...

“Hogwarts seems _great_! There are dormitories, and stairs that change directions, and ghosts, and many portraits that move, well of course at home I had a portrait that moved too but at Hogwarts there are so _many_ , and towers, and banquets that cook themselves... "

"It's the House Elves in the kitchens who prepare the food, actually."

“… And the Houses! Where do you think you will end up? "

"I suspect you will end up in Gryffindor." Regulus muttered in a low voice, but Shepard could still hear him.

“Gryffindor looks cool! Do you have any idea about yourself?"

_Slytherin_. Too bad he was sabotaging himself on that front. "I don’t know. I don’t think there’s a single House who fits me. " He lied.

"Then probably Hufflepuff, since it takes all those who don't fit into the others."

"Excuse me..." Littleton suddenly interjected. "In History of Hogwarts it says that in Hufflepuff there are the patients, the loyals, and the hard workings."

"Well, yes, those are the characteristics of the House, but the Hat sorts in there even those who do not identify well with another one, I think. Or something like that." Shepard shrugged. "And you, Melody, where would you like to go?"

The other girl also shrugged. "Any place is fine, except Slytherin."

At that point, Regulus felt personally touched. "Excuse me..." he said, trying not to sound too aggressive. "... and why is _that_?"

"Mum’s a Muggle." She answered, hiding again her face behind the book. “I would have… problems. And besides, isn’t it the House of dark wizards?"

" _Bullshit_." Regulus answered sourly. “In Slytherin the problem is with Mud… Muggleborns, certainly not with Halfbloods. And even if you were a Muggleborn, why give up a House that might be the perfect one for you just because of rumors? Slytherin is not the House of "dark wizards", it simply has had a higher number than the others. _Merlin_ was a Slytherin. "

"You defend them animatedly." Shepard said. "Maybe that could be the house for-"

"No." He hastened to say. "I'm not... It’s not for me."

Regulus swallowed nervously: just a day after his "plan", he had already reacted badly to an accusation about a House he shouldn't have belonged to. What if something much more serious happened later? Seeing a girl he had never known in person until the day of her death had nearly sent him to a panic attack. He didn't know if he could make it.

He was on the verge of inventing any excuse to change compartments when Littleton pulled a pack of Exploding Snaps out of his pockets and stared at Regulus with green eyes that almost _begged_ him to end the argument. "I bought them in Diagon Alley, but I have no idea how to use them." He confessed.

"You make a house or tower of cards and try to complete it before it explode." Regulus answered automatically, avoiding meeting his gaze.

"Do they really explode? Are they disposable? "

"No, then they go back to normal."

Littleton didn't seem convinced, but he pulled them out of the box anyway. "Want to play?"

"On a _train_?"

"We can see if they fall first due to the jolts or due the explosion."

Regulus was bored, and he needed to get distracted from Shepard, who had just started trying to strike up a conversation with Morrigan. Plus, he would just play cards with him. He doubted this meant he was suddenly becoming his friend.

"…Very well.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The choice of sorting Regulus into another House was a painful and considered one, believe me. I myself belong to Slytherin and I'd never want to imply that Regulus is actually something else, especially, for heaven's sake, _Gryffindor_. I want to leave the few decent Slytherins that Rowling created intact, thank you very much.  
> However it was necessary due to the plot, and as already specified, it is purely Regulus' choice.  
> The matter of Peter Pettigrew is also something I have thought about a lot, but for ... certain reasons I chose this path. In 1979, in my story, Peter had already joined the Death Eaters, but Regulus had other things to think about.


	3. Scelte

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The arrival at Hogwarts is not peaceful as it should be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author: From now on, since I only need to translate the chapters, I will update every three day!  
> Global pandemic and lockdown: Hello uwu
> 
> So sorry, so sorry for the delay. At least the chapter is out? I'll try to be regular in my updates once more.  
> The chapter is short, but I'll make up for it soon, don't worry :)  
> As I've already said, English it's not my first language, so I'm sorry for any mistakes: if you catch them, please make me know so I can correct them  
> As always, thank you so much for your support... and Merry Christmas!
> 
>  **A bit of TW:** a bad flashback about what happened at the Lake.

In the end, the cards fell more times for the train than for the explosion, but Regulus and Littleton still had fun. After a while the food trolley arrived: Regulus didn't have much money, because his mother knew that the only opportunity to spend it would only come in the third year, but he still bought a supply of _Chocolate Frogs_ and two bags of _Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans._ He was planning to eat them slowly at Hogwarts, but Shepard stole a frog from under his nose and continued to throw glances at the beans, so Regulus ended up opening a package and passing it around among all of them. He preferred salty snacks anyway, and he would made it up at the banquet.  
They had no particular conversation, especially since Regulus wanted to avoid too deep contacts with Shepard and Littleton at all costs while Morrigan seemed to be in a world of her own. In what seemed like a very short time they found themselves in the vicinity of Hogsmeade, and after changing into their uniforms they finally arrived at the station.  
And it was when he stepped off the train, that Regulus realized he had not foreseen a _big_ problem.  
“Firs’ years! Firs’ years over here!"  
The first time he crossed the black lake Regulus had simply been a little afraid of falling off the boat, but he was surprised and delighted by the sight of Hogwarts lit up in the night. Now, things were different. He already knew Hogwarts. And he also knew that practically no one fell off the boats.  
However…  
He tried to follow the group of first years to the shore of the lake, but as soon as he saw the first of them get on a boat everything inside him went haywire.  
  
  
_They were reaching for him, their long, frozen fingers grabbing his ankles, his wrist, every single piece of his body they could touch, hurting, maiming, every single of the skin they grazed burned and he could not grab anything, nor the rocks of the islands nor his wand, forgotten somewhere near the basin. He had screamed, screamed at Kreacher to leave him even if he had changed his mind, because one thing was to organize your death, another to live it. And then he screamed for help, for anyone, for his parents, for his brother, for the gods if they existed to save him and water had filled his open mouth and suddenly there was no air and no more breaths and screams and-_  
  
  
“Hey! Is everythin’ okay, kid?"  
Regulus hadn't even realized that Hagrid had grabbed him and pulled him back to his feet before he could collapse - he had been too focused on trying not to throw up and stopping his dizziness. He didn't answer in words: he just nodded.  
“Yeh can't convince me, ye’re white as a ghost! Train sickness? Have yeh eaten too many sweets?"  
Regulus shook his head, breathing slowly: he looked around, noticing that almost all the students were staring at him: some pointed to him, others whispered among themselves. He caught a glimpse of Littleton’s blond head and realized that he was making a fool of himself.  
He pulled away from Hagrid, who did not seem to take it badly, and closed his eyes: Regulus counted to five, breathing deeply, and then he opened them, immediately feeling better.  
Then his gaze returned to the lake and he let out a sound of pure _terror_.  
“Aren' yeh Sirius' brother? If yeh need to go to the infirmary before the Sortin’, I'm sure-"  
"I don’t want to." He whimpered. " _I don't want to._ "  
"Want to...?"  
"The lake." He swallowed bile, taking a step back, and _fuck_ the hundred or more brats that were watching and who probably would use this opportunity to make a fool out of him until the end of his school life and beyond. "I don’t want to..."  
"But there is nothin’ to be afraid of! The Squid wouldn't eat anyone! An’ no one has ever fallen off the boats… yeh just don't lean out and that’s it!" Hagrid was clearly trying to reassure him: the big man slapped Regulus on the back, hard enough to make him almost fall forward: on other occasions he would have moved away again, because the groundskeeper was surely _mad_ , but in that moment? He was too much upset to be able to even _react_. And even the savage seemed to notice this.  
“Blimey, it _is_ serious. An’ what do yeh all have to look at? Come on, all on the boats!" The crowd around Regulus gradually began to disperse. "Look, yeh can stay in the boat with me." This made him feel even _worse_! "I dunno if we can get yeh to Hogwarts like the older kids, I have to contact Professor McGonagall and it takes some time, yeh know..."  
Apparently, it was hopeless. Either he crossed that lake, or he couldn't go to Hogwarts in time for the Sorting: the amount of time Hagrid contacted McGonagall without magic, received permission to let him use the carriages, accompanied everyone else and _then_ him, and the Sorting would surely end.  
He was a _Black_. He couldn't let himself be bent like this by a miserable lake, which wasn't even the one in which he had died! There were no Inferi under _there_. And he doubted that there was no way to save them from drowning if they’d fall in the water: there were probably incidents during all those years, especially because eleven years old kids didn’t like to listen to instructions, and although Dumbledore did not seem trustworthy to Regulus, he doubted that the Headmaster had entrusted all the first years to Hagrid every year without any precautions.  
But although the logic behind was strong, his emotions were even stronger: he had to be led by Hagrid in a boat, and he almost screamed when the man entered with him and made it swing dangerously. Regulus crouched at the opposite end of the boat, as far as possible from the edges, and soon found himself surrounded by students who continued to stare at him, some amused, others with neutral expressions on their face or even worried. He found himself, strangely again, next to Littleton, who seemed concerned.  
"The water shouldn’t even be too cold in September." He tried to reassure him. "If you fall, and you will _not_ fall, stay afloat and we will recover you immediately." It wasn't the best way to help him, but at least he had tried.  
"I cannot swim." Regulus confessed in a whisper, and although it was true it was really the _least_ of the problems.  
"Oh." Littleton glanced at him. “Well, _I_ do. You fall, I’ll jump and catch you, okay? "  
Regulus doubted it would do any good, but he nodded, trying to focus on something else and not on the swaying of the boat, or on the sound of the water crashing against the wood.  
“And that in front of yeh, it’s Hog... hey, yeh! Red! Yeh have to stay inside the boat- I said _sit_! "  
It wasn't the easiest thing to do.  


**────────** ⌛  **────────**

  
  
Regulus barely avoided throwing up once he got ashore, and he swallowed the bile instead simply because he had already put up a show before. Hell, he was going to be the laughing stock of the _whole school!_ Sirius would never leave him be, and that’s why he should never, ever, hear about what happened. Except he probably would, condemning Regulus until the end of his life. Ugh.  
Hagrid told him at least four times to run to the infirmary immediately after the Sorting, but Regulus just ignored him: he knew very well what his problem had been, thank you very much, and staying as far away from the lake as possible would help him. In fact, perhaps being sorted into another House, other than Slytherin, would not be so bad: the dungeons were located under the damn lake, after all.  
Like many years before, Regulus found himself having to wait for McGonagall's along with a group of brats who knew nothing about the Sorting. It was almost a tradition of the Wizarding World, not to tell future students how the Ceremony took place, but the Blacks had never indulged it and Regulus had knew very well even the first time what would await him. And just like the first time, the other students' comments were _tiring_.  
"I heard they'll make us duel..."  
"But I've never cast a spell with a wand before!"  
"I think it's a bit like a treasure hunt, we need to find the dormitories..."  
"My sister told me that the professors choose you after a quiz..."  
"Well, _my_ sister said they send you to the forest and-"  
"It's a _hat_ " Regulus exclaimed, extremely annoyed. “It belonged to Godric Gryffindor it was enchanted by the Founders to continue their choice. You put it on your head and he decides where to send you. It ends there.  
"Many students looked at him confused, others relieved or disappointed. A little boy looked indignant. "It's not true! My sister said- "  
"It's true!" Said a little girl that Regulus recognized as Eunice Mason, an old Slytherin companion of him. Or... not _old_. Future? It was very, very confusing. "It _is_ just like that. Your sister was just making fun of you, Austen."  
"It's not true!"  
"Yes, it is true!"  
"It _is_!"  
"It’s _not_!"  
"I just made things worse, didn't I?" Regulus sighed, disheartened. A little brown-haired girl patted him on the shoulder, as if to comfort him.  
There were many students that year at Hogwarts. After all, usually the number of children arriving at Hogwarts varied: Sirius had told him that the Gryffindors of his year were very few, but that the Hufflepuffs were more than twenty, for example. Regulus remembered well that his had been one of the years with the most students.  
The entrance hall was full of kids: some he recognized, others not. There were so many, and all different from one another, in height, looks, gender and ethnicity. There was a boy who kept jumping on the spot, as if in the throes of some attack, probably too excited for what was about to happen, and two twins who continued to laugh out loud. A little girl she recognized as a future Ravenclaw was accompanied by a house elf because of her blindness, and was chattering to the tallest boy of the bunch.  
" _Quiet_."  
Suddenly, the room seemed to freeze: all future students stopped talking, turning their gaze to the stern-looking witch who was waiting for them on the stairs. Minerva McGonagall looked identical to how Regulus remembered her: the boy had always considered her a formidable teacher, and not at all bad for being a Gryffindor... except at Quidditch matches, when it was often very clear that she was not at all impartial but, hey, Slughorn wasn't either, so it wasn’t a problem.  
A woman like her by Dumbledore's side was wasted, and Regulus had always thought that if she had been Headmaster, surely things at Hogwarts would have been much better. First of all, she would find a Defense Against the Dark Arts professor who wouldn't leave every year, or who was at least competent.  
Regulus did not pay much attention to McGonagall's speech: after all he already knew everything, and it would not give him any new information. He was too focused on thinking about the possibilities.  
What if the hat wouldn't listen to him? What if it sorted him back into Slytherin? What if the Sorting would infuriate his parents? He wasn't really a child, he wasn't afraid of them and he would go on with his plan either way, but he didn't want to ruin the relationship with his mother and father and would prefer to avoid any conflict.  
If, if, _if_. There was no going back now... no, there was no going back since the exact moment he woke up in his old bed: in that moment his fate had already been decided, so that he would have to relive everything. How, it was up to him. But he couldn't escape.  
The only " _what if"_ he knew would never come true was one: " _What if he would be sorted in Gryffindor?_ ". He would jump in the Lake willingly, that is what would happen.

When the doors of the Great Hall swung open, Regulus could not help but look around for familiar faces among the students already sorted. At the Slytherin table he met the gaze of his cousin Narcissa, now in her last year, who smiled encouragingly with Lucius in tow, the Head Boy pin strapped to his chest. Among the Gryffindors, Potter was intent on chatting with a rather bored looking Sirius, who was sprawled in his chair: he was probably just waiting for the food to arrive.  
McGonagall had a stool brought and, finally, she pulled out the Sorting Hat: Regulus could quietly hear the boy from before emitting a sound of amazement and he shook his head, already tired of being among children who were absolutely not his maturity.  
"When I call your name, you will come forward and..."  
One thing was positive, at least: Black would be one of the first surnames to be called, and that anxiety would be over soon. Yet, even with a surname at the beginning of the alphabet, a lot of students got in the way. Before Regulus, Leandra Allen, Matthew Barnes and Barrie Florance were sorted into Gryffindor; in Ravenclaw went Aaron Austen and Bertram Aubrey; in Slytherin Gerard Bennet and in Hufflepuff Evangeline Aubert.  
A very long list of names that Regulus forgot almost immediately at the exact moment in which " _Black, Regulus_ " was pronounced aloud, making his blood freeze in his veins.  
The first time McGonagall had called him, Regulus had felt terrified: he had been afraid of not being sorted in Slytherin, of disappointing his parents. Now the reasons were completely opposite, but the feeling was the same. Before having his hat put on his head, he glanced at the Gryffindor table: Sirius had sat down in an orderly manner, suddenly interested in the Sorting. He saw nothing else because suddenly the Sorting Hat was dropped on his head, covering his view due to its breadth. He had forgotten that little detail: his head had been _too small._  
_"Ah, another Black."_ Spoke the familiar voice of the Hat in his head. _“So different from your brother, of course. I think we both know... "_  
**Please, not Slytherin.** Regulus hastened to think in panic: the quick decision of the Hat was just the one he should avoid at all costs. **Anything but Slytherin.**  
Well, not exactly _anything_...  
" _Not in Slytherin?_ " Asked the Hat, surprised. “ _I don't see why not_. _You are sly, highly intelligent, and your loyalty to the people you bond with is absolute._ _Your ambition is limited only by your insecurities, but if cultivated..._ "  
**I can't be sorted into Slytherin!** He protested. **There must be another House I could go to**! **There are two more... that is, three possibility-**  
_"Boy."_ The voice suddenly became serious and solemn. “ _You're a perfect Slytherin, but I can't force anyone into a House they don't feel they belong to. If you don't want to go to Slytherin, you won't go to Slytherin, but I feel the urge within you._ _You_ know _you're part of that House_. _I think there is no one in this school, at the moment, that would belong in Slytherin more than you, actually, and for good reasons_."  
Could a magical Hat sense that too? Regulus literally froze on the spot: if the Hat understood that he didn't really want to be sorted into another house, then maybe he would not listen to him...  
_"But I will not object."_ The boy sighed with relief. " _You must have your good reasons, this time, not to choose your House, and I will not interfere._ " Another sigh: the first step of his plan was done, albeit with a small initial hitch, and despite the temptation to tell the Hat to sort him to Slytherin it had been very strong, he-  
_Wait_. **This time? W-What do you mean this time?!**  
“ _Young man I'm definitely not a common Hat. I was created by Godric Gryffindor himself and was then enchanted by the four Founders, the most powerful wizards of all time. You will discover, in the course of your new life, that many magical creatures are able, like me, to understand when time is changed... I may not remember anything of what happened but I perceive within you another choice, which occurred on this same day and at the same time many, many years ago... and at the same time, exactly now._ "  
It had been a day since Regulus woke up, almost two now to be precise, and someone had already discovered the secret he had decided to keep. What now? The Hat was ‘staying' in the Headmaster's Office: would he tell Dumbledore anything about him? Or to someone else? Would he be exposed before he could even start?  
" _But it is not my job to meddle in the affairs of Time._ " The Hat reassured him, making him sigh for the third and last time. “ _Now enough of this, we have still enough time for the Sorting but let’s not delay. Regulus Black! Cunning, loyal, smart… I also feel bravery in you, but it's not your main characteristic and you certainly aren't impulsive, or at least, not enough… I'd say Gryffindor is out of the question. Better to focus on your intelligence: very high but, above all… you are unique, Regulus Black, and in your uniqueness the right place for you, at least in this case, will be_ **RAVENCLAW** _!_ "  
A roar of applause greeted him as McGonagall lifted the Hat from his head. With his heart still beating madly for the risk he had just taken, Regulus glanced at the people he knew: many Slytherins seemed surprised, but Narcissa and Lucius were applauding politely, both without a disappointed expression on their faces. Sirius, on the other hand, looked radiant. As if it had been sorted into Gryffindor. At his first Sorting he had snorted and looked away.  
In his euphoria, Regulus hardly heard the last words of the hat. _“When you need answers, young Black, come and see me. Your journey could be more difficult than you expect..."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I spent hours on translating this chapter for one reason and one reason only: Hagrid speech, which of course I'm not used to. I hope I have succeeded.  
> As I said in previous chapters, Regulus being sorted in another House does not mean that he's not a Syltherin, merely that people have many shades and do not belong FULLY to one House or another. I'm not a fan of the whole "Regulus is not Slytherin because he's brave/smart/kind" thing.  
> I've also realized that I'm not only translating the chapters but I'm actually rewriting a lot of things - flashback to the Lake was an add up, and I also changed old description of the students. If you happens to read the original story, know that I will modify the Italian chapters as well.


End file.
